Why do you look like a Shar Pai?!

My sweet pre-lumpy faced boy!

It started out just your typical Northwood’s day. Let the dog out. Let the dog in. Let the dog out… read your ninth book, wean yourself off the TV… let the dog in. Let the dog out. Go with him and play so he gets tired. Come in the house, alternately snooze and/or read while sitting in the recliner, next to the toasty fireplace. Listen to the dog sigh and moan as he scratches himself while lying on his doggie bed.

Let the dusk come… softly there is a pink cast to the sky. The shadows grow deeper, the fire's just embers… the book forgotten in your lap as you watch evening fall out across the white expanse that is the lake.

Make note of the fact that the dog is rubbing his muzzle on his front legs… and the dog bed. Get up, turn the lights on and hone in on the dog’s face!

OH MY GOD!!!!!

Just call me Lumpy.

The sweet yellow lab has transformed himself into a Shar Pai! What the hell!?!
I turn on more lights and study him closely. His poor face is lumpy with what I can only assume are hives!

Cripes.

Quick… call the vet! I glance at the clock… 5:30! Great!

What time do they close on Fridays? Figures, as I listen to the recording, I learn their day ended an hour and a half ago.

I jot down the emergency contact number and call it. I explain the problem to the vet and she instructs me to wash him and give him Benadryl. After determining there isn’t any in the house I run to the store. All they have is the children’s. Same thing but it compounds the problem as I will have to effectively double the amount I have to get down him.

Yay.

I wisely think to buy an infant’s dosing syringe as I’m pretty certain I won’t be able to just convince him to knock back a shot. (Although since I noticed a bottle of Southern Comfort in the house, I’m considering one) So arriving back home the first thing I have to do is wash him. Yeah… he was really not a Happy Dog during that. In actuality, he just kept looking at me with those deep brown eyes, begging me to explain why I was tormenting him so.

The affliction at its worst.

He was so good through it all! Well… the washing part. The Benadryl was another matter. It wasn’t easy but I managed to get a loading dose into him, while my tears are landing on his poor, misshapen muzzle. He resisted of course, but took it in like a trooper. I had to resort to squirting about a quarter of the last of it onto on the top of his paw. Which he then dutifully licked off, giving him the entire dose.

I laid next to him on his bed, waiting to see if he would become drowsy or hyperactive. Much like children, many medications cause the opposite reactions to the doses. We lucked out when his response was to fall asleep. A few hours later after a second dose there was massive improvement and by the next evening there were hardly any indications he’d had an allergic reaction.

On the mend

I never was able to figure out what he’d gotten into. Considering his excavation activities… it’s not surprising he came across something that didn’t agree with him. I was just very happy that it turned out okay!

Back to normal!